We won’t come out

Cemetery entrance arch marked “WE WON’T COME OUT” above gravestones

I want to switch off all sounds that plant negativity in vulnerable minds. But I share the house with others, and need to give them their space.

My insides keep churning restlessly. There comes a night when the world wants to show its most horrific face.  They also want to see the ugliness in others and say, “I always knew it.”

Elves, selves and masks swap places at supersonic speeds to avoid hearing inner screams.

Bless the souls; they are
too noble to step out
of authentic graves


Haibun Monday

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